


Show Me Going

by Le_Tournesol



Series: V99 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Established Relationship, Kisssssing, M/M, brooklyn 99 - Freeform, detectives!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 15:54:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_Tournesol/pseuds/Le_Tournesol
Summary: “Kogane, 3118, show me going.”or the Brooklyn 99 AU no one asked for.





	Show Me Going

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, left field, where did you come from? Based on the episode “Show Me Going.” Some lines of dialogue from the episode.
> 
>  
> 
> Written on my phone. I’ll come back and fix a few italicizations later.

The general chatter of the precinct and the static almost drown it out, but Lance knows Keith’s voice when he hears it.

“Kogane, 3118, show me going.”

Lance’s stomach drops, and his mouth feels too dry, like he hasn’t had a sip of water in years.

He wants to be wrong. Please, please let him be wrong.

He glances around the bullpen, but the sober faces of his friends don’t reassure him.

Although they’d been joking only a minute ago, the laughter is gone from their expressions, like the  humor has soured or been sucked from the room.

“Kogane?” Acxa mutters aloud, “As in Keith Kogane?”

 _Fuck_ , Lance thinks, fuck, and he can’t breathe.

“What’s going on?” Hunk asks as he crosses the room to join the group gathered around the radio. Instead of answering, Pidge waves her hand to hush him, and Romelle turns the radio up just as the dispatcher responds, “3118, I have you going.”

Pidge shakes her head, frowns, “That’s Keith’s badge number.” She swears, “Shit. Lance, isn’t that Keith’s badge number?”

The four of them turn their full attention on Lance, and he feels it like a sucker punch to the gut. He doesn’t answer. His mouth is too dry, he needs something to drink, and there isn’t enough fucking air in this room.

Hunk sits a hand on his shoulder and asks, “Buddy? What’s going on?”

When Lance doesn’t respond, someone else fills the silence, but it’s oddly muted. The radio, he thinks, someone must’ve turned it up. Closing his eyes, he thinks, There’s too much interference on this channel. He wants to tell Romelle to change the frequency, but the snow is almost deafening now.

She wouldn’t be able to hear him anyway.

Lance should just turn it off, right?

No, no, he needs to know what’s going on!

There’s an active shooter in Brooklyn Heights. There are casualties. There are officers responding.

And Keith.

Fuck.

And Lance bolts.

One second he’s frozen, his lungs locked up, his heart refusing to cooperate, his ears buzzing, and then he’s crossing the bullpen in record time.

“Lance!” Hunk yells.

But Lance is already slamming his palm against the down button on the elevator’s panel.

Pidge is hot on his heels, but she’s not trying to stop him. As the bell dings, she promises him, “You’re not going alone.”

A new, precise voice interrupts them, “You’re not going at all.”

Allura steps out of the elevator and blocks their path until the doors close and the carriage slides away.

“Keith’s out there!” Pidge exclaims. “We have to help him!”

“I know Keith is there,” Allura tempers Pidge’s indignance with her fierce calm. “There’s nothing we can do to help him right now.”

Outraged, Pidge slaps her hand down on the railing and exclaims, “What the fuck, Allura!”

Someone gasps, but Allura doesn’t take the bait. Regal, she draws herself to her full height and reminds them, “Detective Holt, I am still your superior officer, and you will not address me with such invectives.”

Pidge recoils and sneers, “I don’t report to you! I report directly to the commissioner!”

Allura’s jaw flexes and a muscle in her jaw jumps. Anger simmers beneath her poised facade, “Is that where we are now?”

Pidge, who is never one to back down, lurches onto her toes and hisses, “Yes! If you don’t get the fuck out of my way.”

Allura’s eyes narrow dangerously, “Someone get her out of my sight before I do something she regrets.”

Hunk manhandles Pidge away from their irate captain, but Lance ignores the commotion. He twists to see if he’s got a clear route to the stairs, but Allura is already one step ahead of him. She puts a well-manicured hand on his chest to stop him and commands, “Look at me, Detective McClain.”

Lance sucks in a shaky breath, but he doesn’t look up. He studies a gray scuff on the floor, and his lips press into a worried frown. He whispers, implores, and his voice breaks, “Allura.”

“Lance,” she repeats. Her tone is firm, but gentle, and he can’t help but comply. He lifts his gaze, and her iridescent eyes brim with emotion.

She loves Keith, too, he knows.

He’s not the only one who is scared they might lose somebody today.  

Pidge’s vitriol is fear, Allura’s unmoved countenance is fear, the static ringing in his ears is fear.

Fear and anger will get him nowhere right now.

Lance swallows, “I have to do something. I can’t just sit here and work on B and E’s when Keith is...”

Allura sweeps him into a hug and then holds him at arm’s length and tilts her head toward the detectives’ desks, “The best way to help Keith is to help keep his family together.”

Lance follows the gesture and surveys the room. Romelle is pale and confused. She’s too new to recognize the terminology being tossed around, she just knows something is wrong. Hunk and Pidge are outside on the roof, and Pidge kicks at pebbles and throws her hands up in the air before burying herself in Hunk’s arms. Coran is sitting at his desk in resigned silence. There’s something grim in the set of his mouth, and Lance wonders if he’s been through something like this already.

Keith’s favorite jacket hangs innocuously over the back of his chair.

“We’ve been ordered to go about our business,” Allura continues, “We’ll remain on alert, but they don’t want us to respond.” Lance nods, blue eyes still on the red jacket, and Allura’s eyes soften, “He’s not alone, Lance. He’s part of a massive NYPD response.”

Lance sighs, “I know... I just...”

“My door is open if you need someone to listen,” Allura squeezes his bicep and then leaves him to better explain the situation to Romelle, who wilts a little as Allura explains that show me going means the officer is responding to the call. 

Pidge, who seems a little chagrined, and Hunk finally come back inside, and Allura addresses the room, “I’ve spoken with a captain at the 9-7. There are two, possibly three shooters. The 9-7 has locked down the area.”

“Keith will be fine, though, right?” Romelle asks as she twists a lock of her blond hair. Keith was her first friend when she came to the city, and he got her the job at their precinct. “He’s, like, tough and brave, right?”

There’s a murmur of agreement, and then Allura says, “I promise you I will let you know if I hear any updates. For now, you all have jobs to do. Dismissed.”

 

Lance interviews three suspects, finishes filing the paperwork for two different cases, and refreshes the news app on his phone roughly sixty times. Around the fourteenth time, Allura announces they’ve located one of the shooters but can’t get to him. The thirty seventh time he pulls out his phone, Romelle gets up from her desk and excuses herself. The fifty third time he reloads the page, Pidge finally emerges from her lair in cyber crimes and plops down on the empty chair next to Lance.

By the fifty seventh refresh, their shift has come to an end, but no one moves to leave. The night shift crew arrives but keeps their distance, and the day shift squad takes over the break room. On the sixtieth reload, Hunk returns with an impressive stack of pizzas and reminds everyone to eat. They all take a slice, but hardly anybody finishes one.

“I’m scared,” Hunk admits once everyone has a plate in front of them. He’s tearing off little pieces of his napkin, and they accumulate on his plate like greasy snowflakes. “I’m sorry, Lance. I didn’t want to say anything, but...”

“It’s okay,” Lance croaks. He’s got Keith’s ugly jacket in his lap. He clears his throat, “I’m scared too.”

“Keith is strong,” Kolivan asserts.

“Yeah,” Pidge agrees. She apologized to Allura at some point, but they weren’t talking much. Pidge’s eyes are hard as she stares at the ground and absently picks at a loose thread on her pants, “But you can’t fight a bullet.”

Lance grimaces, but no one gets a chance to add anything to the conversation because Allura’s phone rings. She steps into her office to take the call, and Lance slumps into Hunk’s side.

“I love him so much,” Lance whispers. “I mean, I know this job is dangerous. And he knows it. But a few hours ago I was teasing him about his bike and his hair and asking if he’d make japchae for dinner.” He crumbles in on himself, “How do... I don’t...”

Hunk wraps an arm around him and rubs circles onto his back, “I think all you can do is love him every day.”

“Sappy,” Pidge snorts, but her voice is a little thick.

“They’ve taken both shooters into custody!” Allura declares as she stumbles back into the break room.

“Keith?” Lance demands, and he uncurls to get back to his feet. He drags his phone from his pocket, presses it to his ear, waits for the call to connect.

“Several officers were injured, but they haven’t released their names.”

The seconds stretch, and the others watch him hopefully, but the call once again goes straight to voicemail.

Frowning, like she too hoped that would work, Allura finishes, “If Keith is uninjured, he should be contacting us shortly.”

The little battery icon on his screen is red, but he’s still got ten percent left and this is a new phone. Restless, he paces the room and wills the phone to ring. It’s silly, but the squad seems to follow his movements with baited breath, like Lance’s nervous energy will shine like a light to guide Keith back to them.

It doesn’t work until it does.

“Has anyone seen my jacket?”

Their heads all perk up, and Lance jerks around so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash.

“Keith!” he cries, and then he’s rocketing forward to embrace him with every ounce of strength he possesses. Keith huffs in surprise when Lance lifts him completely off his feet, but he lets Lance twirl in a quick circle without protest. “You are the fucking worst.”

And then he’s looking into his favorite violet eyes and then he’s kissing his fiancé senseless in the middle of the bullpen with their squad all around them jockeying for their attention.

They can wait, Lance thinks as he crushes their lips together. Keith is warm and real and pliant and Lance is drunk on all of the day’s emotions. He slants his mouth over Keith’s and digs his fingers into his t-shirt and insists

I love you

I love you

I love you

between kisses.

Keith is laughing when they break apart and flashes him an amused, fond smile, “Were you worried or something?”

“No,” Lance says too quickly and then he kisses him again, “Yes. Asshole.”

Romelle giggles, and Pidge quips, “You gonna let him up for air any time soon? We’re waiting.”

And then they’re enveloped by the rest of the 99, and people are scolding Keith, asking if he’s okay, telling him they love him, and it’s so affectionate and syrupy sweet that Acxa grumbles a complaint but she still slaps Keith on the back.

Coran asks Keith if he wants to talk about it, but he shakes his head and a few strands of his dark hair come loose from his ponytail. Lance itches to tangle his fingers in it, but settles for another kiss.

Reluctant to part, they end up eating cold pizza in the break room until the sun’s light winks through the windows.

And if Pidge keeps saying Keith’s name, or Hunk keeps plying him with food, or Coran keeps telling him convoluted anecdotes while Allura rolls her eyes good naturedly, and Lance holds Keith a little bit closer as they drift off, no one mentions it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Tbh I just wanted to finish something so I finally found some time and just hammered. this. out. 
> 
> If I do more, they won’t necessarily be based on episodes. Just like the premise of the show.


End file.
